


Home to the North

by camichats



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Episode: s08e06 The Iron Throne, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 10:17:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18892630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camichats/pseuds/camichats
Summary: Jon is back at the Wall where he belongs: with Tormund and Ghost and the Free Folk-- but mostly with Tormund.





	Home to the North

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe they made jonmund endgame god bless. Here's some dialogue between them bc apparently the writers didn't want to deal with the fluff themselves (cowards)

The horn sounded, signaling their approach, and Jon had to take a deep breath as he went back in the gates he'd left so long ago. He had died here. He'd been _murdered_  here, by people meant to be his brothers and fight at his side. But he'd faced down dragons and tens of thousands of people who wanted him dead in no uncertain terms, so he could do this. 

He could immediately tell that things were different though. True there were a few men in black, but most of the people inside were Free Folk. The sight of so many grey furs instantly made him feel better, and when he looked up, there was Tormund. All remaining anxiety disappeared in a puff of smoke, and he urged his horse forward. 

It was a far cry from their last reunion, where Tormund had barreled over him with a grin so large it must have hurt his cheeks. They'd been experiencing nothing but death at the time, and emotions were running high. This was calmer, but no less joyous. There was a warm contentment in knowing that this was it for them. No more war, no white walkers, no dragons, just them and the Free Folk in the north where they belonged. 

As his horse got to the stairs that led to where Tormund was standing, Jon slowed to a stop and dismounted, taking the steps up one heavy foot at a time. He wanted nothing more than to hold him again, but he was tired and no amount of excitement would spur his legs to move faster. 

"You a crow again?" was the first thing Tormund said. 

Jon's mouth quirked up in a smile. "Black's always been my colour." 

"Aye." Tormund yanked him closer and held him so tightly it was as if he worried that Jon would float away like ash in the wind. "But you'd be my little crow no matter what colour you wear." 

Jon squeezed him back, arms straining. 

"You going to say hello to the rest of us?" one of the Free Folk asked, and they pulled apart with a laugh. 

"You've got him," Jon said, "don't know what you'd need me for." 

"He whinges when you're gone." 

"I don't," Tormund denied under his breath to Jon, but they both knew that was a lie. 

"Doesn't matter. We won't have to find out again." 

"No more dragon queens or family trips?" 

"No." 

"I'll hold you to that." 

Jon looked back over the people there. Free Folk, the last of them. A pathetically small number compared to what they'd had before the attack on the Wall, but they deserved better than this. They deserved to be free, to live back in the land that was their home. "When are we riding north?" 

"Didn't know we were." 

"It's home. None of us belong here." 

"Breaking your vows already?" Tormund teased. 

"What vow am I meant to be breaking with this?" Take no wife certainly didn't apply. No matter what people thought about their relationship, there was no denying that Tormund was a man, not a woman. 

"Leaving your post?" he said-- a pure guess since he didn't know what the vows were, only that he didn't like them because they were restricting. 

"Men go north of the Wall to do their duty all the time. I doubt anyone here is going to tell me no." 

"Going mad with power there Snow, calm down," Tormund said, slinging an arm around his shoulders and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. In a quieter voice, he said, "It'll be good to be north again. The air down here stinks like goat shit." 

"It's a good thing you didn't go to King's Landing. Warm and the smell is even worse." 

"Heard there's not much to the place anymore." 

"No," Jon said, "not much." He sighed, leaning into Tormund. "Let's go home." 


End file.
